The Consort to Death
by LadyLorena
Summary: The Consort to Death visits a few Death Eaters during Easter Break to bring messages about their futures.


Malfoy manor was eerily quiet after Bellatrix lost the Potter boy from the hall. Voldemort had come, he had been merciless, and the Death Eaters responsible for losing the teenagers had been severely punished. The Malfoy family, Bellatrix, and Voldemort stood in the hall where the fight had taken place several days after the incident. Draco stood between his parents, Lucius grim and Narcissa stoic, and tried not to shake too badly. He hoped that his aunt would not place blame for the entire loss on him. She could, she might, she would, and he would deserve it. He hadn't identified Harry when the boys had been face to face.

Bellatrix explained. Bellatrix hissed. Bellatrix hexed Peter Pettigrew for anything she wanted to hex someone for.

In the middle of one of her rants, a figure in a black cloak drifted up through the floor in the doorway and stood silently, its grey hands clasped in front of it, skin barely peeping from under large black sleeves. The figure's face was covered, all but the chin and lips, in a long black hood.

Draco noticed the figure first, but said nothing. He quickly averted his gaze and focused on Bellatrix's performance.

Voldemort's back was to the uninvited guest; Bellatrix paused to take a breath and noticed it, "Who's this?"

Voldemort turned to the figure in the door, "Who indeed. Identify yourself before I kill you."

The figure moved into the room without footsteps, the base of its cloak making no sound as it billowed along the floor in curls of closely kept smoke, "You cannot kill me."

Voldemort shrugged and took that as a challenge, "Avada Kedavra." The green flash of light hit the figure in black and the light vanished, sucked into the darkness of the figure's cloak.

The figure spoke again, "You cannot kill me. I am the Consort to Death."

Bellatrix giggled and clapped her hands. The Malfoy parents stood frozen, staring forward as though they were statues, hoping the figure did not notice them. Draco watched.

Voldemort stared, calmly, at the figure, "Why have you come? Why, if Death wished to visit us, did he not come on his own?"

"Death did not wish to visit you. Death has no business with you. I do."

One of the minor Death Eaters ran into the room with a message in his hand, "My Lord, my Lord!" He nearly ran into the figure, who did not move, and his arm went through the Consort's side as he passed. He handed the note to Voldemort and waited for a response or new orders.

"Are we finished here, whatever you are?" Voldemort asked, "I have business to attend to."

The Consort to Death shook its head, "No."

"Then will you hurry up and do whatever it is you are going to do? If someone is going to die, I would prefer you deliver your message or take him or her sooner, rather than later, so I can continue with my business."

"None of your songs have reached their ending. The music in your minds still plays."

The messenger looked at the Consort, bemused, "I don't hear no music- not the music I heard yesterday. All I hear 's Cher."

The corner of the Consort's lips curled up into a slight smile, "Death has business with you." The messenger dropped to the floor and a shadow brushed across the room over his body. The shadow stopped in front of his consort and the Consort's cloak shifted slightly with a brush of warm air. The shadow bent down in a slight bow and then vanished.

Voldemort stared at the Consort, "Did you call Death to him?"

"No. His song had finished. Death called him."

Draco spoke up, "What do you want?"

"To speak to each of you. Disperse. Go to your chambers. I will seek out those with whom I have business."

Voldemort nodded to the Consort and then gestured to his Death Eaters, "To your chambers." The Malfoy family quickly left the room, "Bellatrix, you as well." She left quickly. Voldemort faced the Consort, "What is it you wish to say to me?"

"We are not alone. There is a man on the stairs. He is one with whom I do not wish to speak. Go somewhere private. I will find you." The Consort swirled into a column of smoke and shot upward through the ceiling, leaving Voldemort standing in the room trying to decide if he should obey the Consort's order or not.

The Consort to Death appeared in Bellatrix's room, startling Bellatrix and absorbing a few more curses in the process.

The Consort stood still, immobile as Bellatrix circled, "What kind of magic do you use? You aren't effected by our spells. You are not afraid of me. You move as though you were not one of us."

"I am not one of you. I am the Consort to Death."

"Let me see your face."

"If you see my face, you will die."

Bellatrix paused, "Are you sure?" The Consort did not reply. Bellatrix lunged forward and tried to grab the Consort's hood. Her hand passed through the Consort, "What are you?"

"I am the Consort to Death." 

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing. I have come only to speak to you."

Bellatrix eyed the Consort warily, her wand drawn, "What do you have to say?"

"You will not outlast your Dark Lord. You may kill many, but the one you think you will defeat easily will be your downfall."

Bellatrix laughed, "That's it? You came to tell me some drivel such as that? Of course I won't live longer than he will! He. Can't. Die. And what's this about not being able to defeat someone easily? Even if they put up a fight, we will win, in the end."

"Suit yourself," the Consort said moments before it slid sideways through the wall.

The Consort slid into the room where the parents Malfoy were arguing in hushed tones. The heard the flutter of the pages of an open book as the Consort formed into a figure and immediately fell silent.

Lucius addressed the Consort, "What do you want with us?"

"I wish to tell you something you will find useful."

Narcissa stepped beside her husband, "What kind of something?"

The Consort to Death drifted toward the couple, "News of how this will end for the both of you."

Lucius smiled impatiently, "Well, do tell. Do things turn out well for us?"

"You will lose all that you value that you have earned and you will be left with the one thing you have not earned, do not deserve, and yet should value above all else."

Puzzled, Lucius opened his mouth to ask a question, but the Consort had already vanished, dissipating and dissolving in the air.

The Consort reformed in Voldemort's chamber, "Here, we may speak."

Voldemort turned to face the Consort, "What is it you wish to tell me? Be quick about it, I have other business to attend to."

The Consort watched him, "Know this- Death will come, even for you. He cannot be stopped, only delayed."

"If the story of the Hallows is true, I can gather the Hallows and be the master of Death."

The Consort's lips curled into a smile, "If you believe such things."

"What does that mean?"

"The stories contain a part of a truth, but which part is true is for you to determine. What part is untrue is also for you to determine."

Voldemort sighed, "Will you please stop wasting my time?"

The Consort nodded, "I am finished with you." The Consort dropped through the floor.

The Consort dropped into Draco Malfoy's room from the corner near the window, startling him. He dropped backwards onto the bed as the figure moved forward.

"Why did you come here?"

The Consort came closer, "To speak."

"Am I going to die?"

"Eventually. All mortals must."

Draco backed farther onto the bed, away from the Consort, frightened, "Will I live past this nightmare?"

"Yes. That does not mean the nightmare will ever stop haunting you, though."

Draco nodded, "Understood." He breathed a little easier, "And my parents?"

"Will not understand what I have told them until it is staring them in the face."

"What did you tell them?"

"You will lose all that you value that you have earned and you will be left with the one thing you have not earned, do not deserve, and yet should value above all else."

Draco thought for a moment before quietly asking, "We aren't going to return to how things were before, will we?"

The figure shook its head, "You can never go back to before."

"Did you talk to the others like this? Asking and answering? If you don't mind my saying so, you don't seem like the most conversational person…or whatever you are."

The Consort gestured for Draco to stand and to stand in front of it, "I did not. You are not as they are. You still fear Death for the reasons you ought to fear him."

Draco hesitantly followed the Consort's request and stood not more than a few feet from it, "And what reason would that be?"

"Bellatrix does not fear death at all- neither she nor Tom do, nor will they, until he takes them. Your parents fear Death because they fear losing what they know. They fear loss of their possessions more than they fear Death. You fear Death for what he is and what he can take from you."

"And that is the right way to fear Death?"

The Consort nodded, "It is."

Draco tried to keep his breathing under control as he held down the panic he felt standing in front of the Consort to Death, "So what is it you came to tell me?"

"Do not give in to an easy surrender. Death will not come for you until you are much older. Make the most of that time and do not spend it in the company of those who seek to master the unmasterable."

Draco was shaking, "I will do my best."

The Consort paused and reached up with one cool, grey hand and brushed Draco's hair back from his face. Draco stayed perfectly still, terrified of the otherworldly being who claimed to know Death.

The Consort guided Draco's head forward and bowed him forward and then gently kissed his forehead, its voice softening from the indifferent tone it had taken when he had first heard it to something softer and warmer, "Child, you will chart your own course. You, however, must take the first step. You will not die when you do. Your song has many measures that have not been discovered and played."

As the Consort's lips brushed his forehead, Draco felt fear drain from his body and his muscles stopped quivering nervously. The Consort stepped back and began to fade when Draco interrupted its exit.

"Wait."

The Consort stopped, "Yes?"

"Can you stay with me for a while? No one ever talks to me kindly."

The Consort shook its head, "I cannot. I am bound by time and have another visit to make. Patience. Your life will change soon." The Consort faded away and Draco sat back down on the bed, hoping that the Consort to Death was not a vast hoax or hallucination.

The Consort rematerialized in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Severus Snape finished the sentence he was writing in a letter and then carefully set his quill aside.

"Severus."

"You have come again."

"As I said I would."

He rose from the desk and stepped in front of it as the Consort ascended the stairs, the fluid hem curls of smoke floating up the steps like fog spilling in reverse, "Then my end is getting closer."

He extended his hand to the Consort and it placed one cool, grey hand in his as it traversed the last few stairs, "Yes. It is."

"Will you show me your face this time?"

The Consort took both his hands in its and nodded, "Yes."

"How long before this is over?"

"I cannot tell you. I cannot alter the date Death will take you." The Consort dropped his hands and carefully drew back its hood. Beneath was the face of an ageless woman, her white hair glowing, tinged orange, and her eyes the colour of honey, "The events that will lead to your death have been in motion for some time."

He sighed, "I do not want to alter them. I have waited long enough."

The Consort brushed his cheek with her hand, "Death has asked that I give one kiss to those he deems worthy to see my face before he claims them." She stepped in and brought her lips close to his.

He whispered, "No."

She paused, her lips inches from his, "Lily."

"Will I see her?"

"I do not know. Death never let me get that far before he asked I be his own." She turned his face and softly kissed his cheek, "I do not know what follows collection by Death."

"Thank you."

The Consort to Death smiled, "You will see me once more. I will be with you in the room as you die. Your death will not be easy. It will be painful, you will, for a moment, linger, and you will be thrown away."

"Alone, then, in the end, save for you."

"No. Not alone. But not with someone you expect, either."

He nodded, "Fine. Will anyone ever know what I have done?"

"Yes."

"May I ask a question?"

"Yes."

"How is it that you can touch me? The first time we met, I passed through you on accident."

The Consort stepped back and let go of his hands, "I wish it." She then vanished.

About a month later, Severus Snape found himself in the Shrieking Shack reporting to Voldemort when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure in the corner draped in black. He heard Voldemort whisper something and then felt fangs sink into his teeth. As he fell, he saw the Consort to Death remove her hood. As he died, he saw the eyes, gurgled a last request, and saw a former student move forward to collect his memories.

After the world faded, he found himself in a dark space, laying on the floor as he had in life, but without his trachea partially missing. He could see only black. He felt the air move warm past his face and felt cold, bony fingers tug him to his feet. Disoriented, he tried to find his bearings in a place that did not allow for it. He closed his eyes. Total darkness was less disconcerting when it was expected.

Something glowed through his eyelids. He slowly opened his eyes and saw the Consort standing near him. Her glowing hair illuminated a skeletal, shrouded figure that had a hand on Severus' elbow.

The Consort spoke, "Welcome."


End file.
